Timber

Chapter Ten: The Aftermath

Hazel was struck with a paralyzing disbelief; a single word escaped her lips in a breathless whisper. "No." Time seemed to grind to a halt as the weight of the moment settled upon her. Her heart pounded as she watched Silus begin to extricate himself from the crowd of boys. 'How was this possible?'

Each heartbeat felt like a drum in her ears, her mind struggling to make sense of it all. She couldn't fathom how they had both been selected, the odds so astronomically against it. Yet here they were.

Hazel's eyes followed him, she wanted to cry out, to protest, to do something, anything. But the words wouldn't come.

Hazel's eyes locked onto her family, capturing the raw turmoil etched on their faces. Fern's expression was a portrait of horror, her hands clasped over her mouth in a desperate attempt to stifle a scream. Beside her, Oren stood like a statue, his features painted with a profound mix of shock and deep sorrow. His eyes, usually so full of strength, now mirrored a pain so profound that it felt like Hazel could reach out and touch it.

The sight of them was like a physical blow to Hazel. The only clear thing in Hazel's world was the agony etched on the faces of those she loved most. Their pain was her pain, magnified and reflected back at her.

A composed steadiness marked Silus's approach to the stage, each step measured. His broad shoulders, usually relaxed, now appeared to carry an immense burden. As he walked, there was a noticeable rigidity in his movements, his hand with the bandage flexing ever so slightly with each stride.

In his eyes, there was a new, hardened edge. They were fixed forward, focusing on a point in the distance as if he were searching for some fragment of strength. When he finally ascended the stage, his gaze met Hazel's. A silent conversation unfolded. There was an understanding, a mutual recognition of the grim path they were now forced to walk together.

As Hazel tried to maintain a semblance of strength, the intensity of Silus's gaze unraveled her composure. The tears she had been fighting back now cascaded down her cheeks. Through the blur of her tears, she could barely make out Silus's figure on the stage. He gave a subtle nod, almost imperceptible. This small gesture from Silus only intensified the flood of emotions that overwhelmed Hazel.

Silus joined Hazel on the stage, standing side by side. They were no longer merely siblings; they had been transformed into tributes to the Hunger Games. This new reality settled over Hazel, a heavy, suffocating cloak of dread.

"What a historic day for District Seven! For the first time, siblings will represent us in the Hunger Games!" Indira's absurd announcement echoed in Hazel's ears, her voice grating against her raw nerves. 'Historic,' Hazel scoffed, bitterly turning the word over in her mind. The thought of being in the arena, not just fighting for her own life but also acutely aware of Silus's fate, was unbearable.

As Indira continued with the formalities, the reality of the situation weighed heavily on Hazel. Questions flooded her mind. How would they navigate the Games? How could she possibly protect Silus in an environment designed to pit them against each other? The cruel irony of the situation was not lost on her; the best outcome they could hope for was that only one would return to seven. And deep down, if it came down to it, it was unlikely to be her.

As Hazel and Silus were escorted away from the stage, encircled by the formidable peacekeepers, they were guided through the sea of onlookers. They were being taken to the train station – a journey she had seen many times but never imagined she would be making herself.

Behind them, Fern's sobs became a haunting soundtrack to their grim procession. The faces of the crowd melded into a sorrowful blur. Hazel couldn't bring herself to meet their eyes. Her focus was consumed by the relentless pounding of her heart and the constricting sensation in her chest, each breath feeling like a battle against the overwhelm that threatened to consume her.